


And I'm of Good Cheer, 'Cause I've Been Checking My List

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, Peterick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas with your newlywed is the best kind of Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I'm of Good Cheer, 'Cause I've Been Checking My List

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote it fast, so sorry if it's a little quick.

Christmas morning is always exciting. Rather you're spending it with family and friends or lover. This is Pete and Patrick's first year celebrating Christmas as husbands; first year celebrating the holiday without family or parents. They figured that they could always do it next year, but it's like the _first dance/first step_ as a married couple concept.  
  
  
Patrick wakes up from the sun shining through the curtains. The other side of the bed is empty, sheets disheveled, indent still on the pillow. Patrick rubs the sleep out of his eyes, looking around the room for other signs of life, he find nothing but that it's 8 a.m. and snowing outside. He gets out of bed, dragging his feet out of the room when he smells cinnamon rolls in the oven, for the first time not burning.  
  
  
Once downstairs, Pete (while devotedly sucking on a candy cane and sitting sideways on the recliner) immediately spots him.  
  
  
"Stumpycakes, you're awake!" Pete announces with way too much pep for this hour of the morning. It really shouldn't feel like something new, Patrick frankly can't remember the last time he woke up first.  
  
  
"Don't call me that." Patrick grunts out, slight smile on his face, but he doesn't want Pete to know that he might actually like the ridiculous nicknames he comes up with.  
  
  
"Merry Christmas to you too. Making breakfast, should be done soon."  
  
  
"Good, I'm starving." Patrick comes over to Pete and sits on his lap, positioned in the chair more properly than Pete was in the first place.  
  
  
"Wanna suck on my cane?" Pete holds the candy cane in front of Patrick with a wild grin on his face.  
  
"I think I'm good." Pete bites a piece off the peppermint candy, and straightens himself out a bit to kiss Patrick.  
  
  
"Now you have no choice."  
  
  
"Wow, you know just how to turn me on." Patrick deadpans, stuck with the piece of candy in his mouth. Pete slides out from under Patrick to get the breakfast out of the oven.  
  
  
"Eat quick, I want you to see what I got for you soon." Pete tells him, shifting his weight every two seconds while handing Patrick his breakfast. Patrick slides to sit on the floor with Pete, who is already halfway done with his meal.  
  
  
After food, the two pull the presents out from under the patchy--nonetheless fresh--Christmas tree. They go through the smaller ones first, exchanging kisses and  _thank you's._  
  
  
Pete presses for Patrick to open his first. Patrick holds the silver and blue dotted wrapping paper square, roughly the size of a school binder. He peals at the tape as slowly as he can, looking up at Pete (who's biting his lip with anticipation and impatience), seeing his face turn from excitement to agony with the pace he's using.  
  
  
After what Patrick thinks is enough Christmas torture, the present is unwrapped. A black leather-bound photo album, written in that familiar handwriting on the front, it says:  
  
  
 _You're my home, because my heart is with you_  
  
  
Patrick runs a hand over the front of it.  
  
  
"Open it," Pete says, gesturing his hand at Patrick. The first page--once again hand-written--says:   
  
  
 _Patrick and Pete: Through the Years_  
  
  
Patrick flips to the second page, revealing a photo Joe took when Pete first heard Patrick sing, and then preceded to hug the argyle sweater Patrick; a lyric under the photo, written neatly (for Pete, anyway):  
  
  
 _So many kids but I only see you_  
  
  
"Where the hell did you find this picture?"   
  
  
"Luck or hoarding. Maybe I reenacted it with your evil twin, guess you'll never know. Now keep going." Patrick continues, the further he gets into the album, the more recent the time lines goes. Each page follows the same manner as the first, written in different color pens, but still recognizably Pete.  
  
  
Patrick stop again at a photo from about seven or eight years ago. They were on stage covering  _Mr. Brightside,_  hooded Pete had surprised Patrick by stalking towards him throughout the song and pecking him on the cheek during the  _It was only a kiss_. The expression on his face isn't the one he intended, but he had been caught off guard and cowered slightly, trying not to falter the lyrics. Under the photo written:  
  
  
 _I guess it was more than a kiss_  
  
  
Patrick continues through, Pete watching the pages like there is still more to it. He flips through all the personal or stage taken photos, oddly he can remember when each one was taken, with the exception of the one of Patrick sleeping. A page is blank besides for the  _Something to Keep You Warm in the Winter_ written on it. He flips to the last few pages and it's newly taken ones of Pete. Near or fully nude in each.  
  
  
"Well?" Pete asks. Patrick smirks, carefully looking over each picture, not having to do the  _Who took these photos?_ conversation, thankfully, since he can see Pete took them all himself.   
  
  
"Wow, Pete," Patrick pulls one out of the corners that were holding it down to get a better look. "I found my favorite I think."  
  
  
"Yeah? Which one?" Patrick holds it out for Pete to see: he's sprawled out on the bed, jeans just low enough to see everything, with a on his hard self, and a feral look in his eyes. Patrick feels like Pete's looking right through him, it's driving him wild. "So you like them?"  
  
  
"I love them. All of it." Patrick hugs Pete from over the wrapping paper.   
  
  
"Thought it was safer getting them in print so they don't make their way to the Internet this time."  
  
  
"Smart move."  
  
  
"Yeah. By the way, though, I was thinking of you every time, I always do." Pete says, barely above a provocative whisper into his husband's ear. Patrick feels his body getting about fifty degrees hotter, and he breaks away the hug not even trying to hide the blush as he pushes Pete's present over to him. Pete grins at him as Patrick slides the picture back in its place.   
  
  
With one swipe, Pete rips the majority of the black, red, and green Christmas wrapping paper off. A black hard case--unmistakably for an instrument--is what's underneath. Pete peals away the remaining paper to get to the locks on the front. He opens them, pushing up the top of the case unveiling a new bass guitar. Mostly the same model of his old one, but much different appearance. The body is white with ribbons of colors draped over the body; black, green, yellow, red and blue decorating it, leaving not much room bare; the other pieces accenting black to match the pick guard; darker fret board than his last as well.   
  
  
Pete pulls it out of the case and holds in up in front of him. "Wow, 'Trick, this is gorgeous." Pete says in awe.  
  
  
"Check the back." Pete turns it around to the smooth white back, behind where the neck connects to the body, engraved in cursive on the sliver plate:  
  
  
 _To my husband, love you forever - Lunchbox_  
  
  
"I love it." Pete eyes it up and down, positioning it so he can hold it properly and get a feel for it.  
  
  
"I may not be a poet, but I'm hoping I put enough love into it that you'll forgive cliché."  
  
  
"I love clichés. It's perfect." Pete puts the strap over his shoulder and stands up. Patrick gets up with him, stepping on noisy wrapping to get to his husband kissing him with the bass guitar between them.  
  
  
"Merry Christmas, 'Trick."  
  
  
"Merry Christmas, Peteybear."

**Author's Note:**

> My Christmas gift to you all is leaving it to the imagination of what the rest of the pictures in the album were. :) Hope you all a wonderful and maybe snowy holiday!


End file.
